


Web of Revenge

by Killerholic



Category: Star Wars
Genre: Badass Reader, Blowjobs, Dominant Kylo Ren, Dominant Reader, Dry Humping, F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, KyloRen/Reader, Lone Reader, Masochism, Naked Female Clothed Male, Pain tolerance, Porn With Plot, Punishments, Reader is same age as Kylo, Sadism, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut in future chapters, Strange Love, Submissive Reader, adding as i go, independent reader, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-06-16 21:05:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15445836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killerholic/pseuds/Killerholic
Summary: Two very empowering, dry-witted, and dangerous characters will clash heads . . . Hard. Not the typical love / hate relationship but a more sour version of it.Feedback is appreciated, I’m not the best at descriptions, sorry! Xoxo





	1. Web of Love / Hate

**Author's Note:**

> My very first fan fiction! Ever. Updates will be almost every day because let’s be honest, I don’t do much but I enjoy writing a lot.

The atmosphere was crowded with an evil-like presence, it was almost hard to breathe. Everyone was on edge considering what happened last time they attempted to throw a party in celebration for Valentine’s Day. Almost everything in sight was decorated in red, and not from any cheap decor lying around either. The mysterious Black Widow is the woman that haunts the town with her vile presence. Though some may laugh about how she’s a hoax or just the typical urban legend that plagues Moone City, she is much more than that. Each and every year she returns from the dark caverns of hell for Valentine’s Day. Taunting her victims by writing them personalized cards that seem loving at first glance but will soon send a shiver down your spine when you continue to read her warnings. As always, the cards are paired with a heart-shaped box, or a bloody body-part. Normally, for most people this would signify that they’ve been chosen to be someone’s Valentine, however as they inspect the red fluid that leaks through the cheap candy-box they’ll know that they’ve been sent a warning from the she-devil herself. Already disturbed and disgusted by the blood on the sides, her victim of choice will open the box as usual and scream in terror. Since the holiday is surrounded and based around love, and hearts are typically used to describe someone’s love. All warnings are final. The heart she places in the box is hinting that that could be yours in another box, too, if you don’t discontinue with your shenanigans. 

 

The city is her toy to do whatever she pleases with. She owns anyone and everyone there. If anyone sees it fit to step out of line and misbehave she will put them in their rightful place. The legend that’s been gifted the title ‘Miss Valentine’ yearns for all control and power, but the Supreme Leader does too. And when he has his mind set on something he will get it, no matter who the enemy may be. No matter how big or strong they appear to be, he’ll outrank them. For he is the dangerous Kylo Ren that lurks behind the dark depths of his enemies ashes. No one is aware of your presence but day by day you taunt Ren by sending him cards. Itching for a reaction — or a fight. It’s not that you necessarily crave attention, it’s not like you need or want it anyways. Your whole entire demeanor is one of an infamous spider titled the ‘Black Widow’ which is known for killing its mate after they’ve taken what they’ve wanted from said mate. It is a greedy thing to do, but you take pride in doing so. It’s ironic to say so but one of your old colleagues joked that since you declined his offer in going out on a date with him, you should have been gifted the name ‘Black Widow’ rather than the other corny nicknames the other males taunted you with. The man that poked fun at the nickname was your very first victim. He was stupid enough to fall right into your web of revenge. 

 

With a simple bat of your eyelashes and the flip of your ice-like hair you had him hooked. The same goes for the other men that had dared to join in on the sick crime. One by one they disappeared, and day-by-day you grew attached and accustomed towards the nickname. You’ve always had an uncontrollable blood lust, they just decided to activate it. They claimed that you were the easy one but to you, men like them were all the same sick pig screeching for some attention. Moving back to Kylo once more, you weren’t uneducated on what the man has done. In fact you’d say you researched him quite well and had known him like the back of your hand. His tactics were boring and just like every other bratty man that claims they’re a sith or something like it. Taunt, play mind games, then kill. Where’s the fun in that? There isn’t any. To you he wasn’t terrifying at all. Oh boo-hoo, he caused a catastrophic accident at the Jedi Temples and killed every soon-to-be Jedi that was trained under Luke. You’ve seen better sob stories than that. In your opinion the whole shit-storm of the Jedi Temples was a bunch of bullshit. It was just another farfetched story to make the Jedi relevant again. I mean sure, there’s no denying the fact that Kylo went through a very traumatic experience, but it’s still not all believable or even frightening to you.

After taking a well deserved break from killing and whatnot, you decided to head back into the game of pain, torture, and all things alike. So, what better place to start at than Moone City! Of course you had planned this all out to your liking. If you followed through with your plan, and perhaps Kylo would fall right into it too, everything would go accordingly to plan. You weren’t too keen on traveling either so you had hoped and . . . prayed? That he would act out, and try to summon a fight. You’re also ahead of schedule, perhaps too ahead. Moone City looks like the average town filled with hot ‘n’ horny teenagers, dumbfounded old people, and the random wacko or two. Unusual you may seem to others for wearing an all black suit and just a red latex corset around like you couldn’t give single care in the world. It was expected to have a few stares here and there, but having everyone’s attention wasn’t your goal. It was either this or dressing like some poor old town folk that seems like the typical quiet type. You’d much rather stick inside your comfort zone and not outside. It’s not like you were insecure of your body, in fact you were very proud of it, you just didn’t like all of the unwanted attention from strangers looking for a quick hookup. As your heels clicked on the pavement, your eyes roamed all over the tacky Valentine’s decoration, no doubt that they’ll be throwing a party — or attempting to. It baffles you that after all of the times the townsfolk have been warned about the parties they still do them. They risk lives just to celebrate some stupid holiday. Just like Harry, you weren’t too fond of the tacky lovey-dovey holiday made for children either. It was a poor way of admitting your feelings for someone in hopes of getting to fuck them later on. You aren’t the loveable type either, it’s more like a ‘I fuck you and then you leave’. The no strings attached is what you like. You’ve had your heart broken before, too many times to keep track of. Thus leading to your evergrowing hatred for the holiday. Showing your love for one stupid day and then you’re back to the same old same old. Most of the women here are too naïve and the men take advantage of that. You however couldn’t relate to that anymore, you had formed yourself into a bolder version of whom you used to be. You’re a heartbreaker not a heartmolder. You’re familiar with true pain, not true love. Both are just as agonizing and cruel, but only one keeps you safe. Safe from the cons that attache themselves to the aspect of love itself. Soft and tender love just won’t win you over anymore. You’ve seen it all, and you’re waiting for something new . . . Something enticing, playful, . . . a challenge. Your answer and challenger would be none other than the Jedi killer himself. The holiday. The parties. Kylo. You coming to Moone City. It was all perfect and well though out. The charming city with a so-called big heart was soon about to get cursed with another Jedi Killer. Apparently Kylo was rumored to be hanging around their too. It would have everyone thinking “Who in the hell would dare try to surpass his kill streak?!” You would dare to. If it means that you’d get to taunt him as if he were one of the townsfolk and you him. It’s the only game of cat and mouse that you’d ever partake in. It’s worth the risk. The risk of getting caught, ‘unmasked’, and letting Ren think you’ll be an easy bitch to tame and kill like the other women. 

Apparently the man himself is visiting for personal reasons labeled as a ‘vacation’. No doubt he’s only here to visit Velvet Velour, a strip-club down the street from your current location, soon you’ll venture towards the club to observe him in person. Though you’ll have to be careful about all of it, or else you’ll end up screwing shit up and get caught in HIS web.


	2. Web of Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we’re getting somewhere. Kylo will be introduced in the next chapter. I don’t know if you guys like this at all so please do tell me, otherwise I won’t continue it.

Maneuvering your way throughout the crowded streets wouldn’t be a hard thing, just as long as no one tried to cop a feel or stir the pot by attempting to strike up a conversation. You knew far too well that you’d have to disguise yourself as one of the show girls. I mean, how else were you supposed to capture his attention? Currently, you weren’t dressed in your normal attire but one of a homeless person. Something ragid. Oh how you had missed the feel of your corset digging it’s claws into your sides . . .  
Your head tilted upwards and glared at the bright sign that stared down at you in pity. ‘The Velvet Velour’ it read. Almost as if it were mocking you for even daring to come here. Regardless of what it seemed like to you, your feet went into the direction of the door, and reached to open it, but you were pushed back lightly by one of the two bodyguards. Only if they knew who they had just pushed oh so rudely they’d be cowering in fucking fear. You chuckled at the thought of seeing their perplexed faces as you revealed your true identity. You decided against the latter and chose the more ‘oh pity me, I’m poor and I need quick cash.’ Internally churning at how weak you’d sound, a shiver ran throughout your body. You coughed and removed your hood.

“I-uh saw the flyer that requested . . . a uhm a dancer so here I am.” 

The two men both chuckled and looked down at your dirty form. Deciphering if they should take pity on you or to continue to make a mockery out of you. Fortunately for you, luck was on your side this one time and they let you in. Instantly, you were hit with even brighter lights, fourteen tables or so, a few booths in dark corners, two poles on each sides of the stage, and a few people talking to the side. One looked to be of a headmistress that belonged in a boarding school. You chuckled again at your comment, who knew you were such a joker. Might as well become a comedian to get some decent income rather than some pole dancer. At least you’d have some dignity left if you stuck to comedy. Her carnivorous eyes raked over your body in disgust, her face scrunched up and revealed her true age. As she got closer to you, a fake smile stretched her face, surprised that it didn’t split into two. Her pale hand shot out to shake yours almost reluctantly, it was shaking slightly, surely not out of nervousness. If this is the woman you talked on the phone with prior to you actually arriving here then why was she so disgusted in you. You shook her head and stared at her curiously.

“Von, it’s me. Deville. (Y/N) Deville.” 

Her eyes opened widely as if she was just told some horrific news. Ah so she isn’t as dumb as she looks. The fake smile was nowhere to be seen at this point, an evil smile took it’s place. 

“Ah. Miss Deville. Such a pleasure to actually meet you. I must say I was put off by your um . . . Different appearance.” 

That same plastic smile was back now, but you weren’t dealing with this now that you’ve actually made your way into the club.

“Cut the shit and just say I look like a bum. You know why I’m here. Show me around and we won’t have any problems.” 

Von’s smile faded once more and hopefully the last time tonight would you get to see it. She coughed and placed her hand on your lower backside, escorting you to the back room that held all of the dancers and their wardrobes. Normally you wouldn’t let someone touch you, but you couldn’t care less right now.

“Yes yes. Of course. I apologize for keeping you waiting.” 

Even Von wasn’t fully aware as to why you were here. Yes she knew of your wicked ways and how you were titled the Black Widow, but she was still curious. Someone of your title shouldn’t be here at all. However she didn’t budge because it’s none of her business and it’d be highly inappropriate to question one of her show-girls. Instead she showed you around the place, introduced you to the various girls that performed here. They all smiled warmly unlike Von their smiles were real and meant something to someone, but not you. One of the girls, Emerald, was throwing hundreds of tips your way as if you didn’t know how to tame a man and have him wound up in your web of desire. You played coy, tilted your head to the side innocently, and nodded. If these women were easy then you were almost positive the men would be too. Von showed you a few outfits that would fit you. One was of all black garbs - a lace black bra, a red garter-belt, black latex thigh-highs, paired with black lace panties as well. The others were all too girlie, or too out there. This one was like your usual attire. The black latex suit and the red corset that hugged your curves perfectly. You sighed and took everything into your hands as someone shouted,

“Twenty minutes til’ showtime girls!” 

Apparently at the end of each and every night there was a big number that required everyone to dance in it. And since you were the most newest ‘employee’ you were going to have the biggest role. Lucky you . . . After you made your way to your assigned dressing room, you realized your hands were shaking slightly. There was someone else that held a much more darker energy here. You felt it. A shift in the air. You stopped what you were doing and looked at yourself in the mirror. Only one thigh high on and you already looked like a teasing whore. You weren’t keen on receiving attention from anyone, so in what? Ten minutes now? You had hoped and prayed that no one would test your patience. Shaking your head you finished up with dressing, stared at yourself in the mirror and inwardly gagged. You felt so . . . Vulnerable. Like an animal being locked up in a cage and put on display to a pack of wild beasts. 

Your stage name was ‘Miss Valentine.’ How fitting, yes? And you were one of the very first numbers tonight. The first was of course Emerald since she was a crowd favorite and then the next was Raven. You saw a glimpse of her but damn did she make the other women here look dumb. Her flawless caramel complexion was intoxicating, and the way she spoke almost had you under HER spell. But alas, you were the third woman to perform. You were on your way to touch up your makeup but stopped as Von ran in, face flushed and out of breath.

“Ladies. Supreme Leader Ren is here. I have spoken with him and he expects nothing but the absolute best tonight. Do NOT disappoint me. If you do, there will be serious consequences.” 

Venom dripped from her ice-cold words and it almost, almost, scared you. You shrugged it off, you knew you’d be good. Even if you’ve never worked the pole in front of people, you knew you’d have to be good. For your sake, for the girls sake, for his sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far we’ve got a last name for the reader, a name for the ‘headmistress’ of the Velvet Velour, and a smart mouth on our hands.  
> I apologize if there’s any spelling errors but please do leave kudos or comments! I don’t know if you guys like this.


	3. Web of Sinfulness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader shows some of her true colours to the crowd and accidentally lets it slip that she’s not so innocent as the other girls are.

Anyone in this situation would be nervous and, they’d usually show it. With their body movements, the way they tripped over every word, and of course the red hues that coloured their cheeks. However, you were nervous but weren’t the type to show any weak signs. The wrong person could pick up on that information instantly and use it against you in a future argument. And you were not the one to be depicted as a weak one either, so that would cause some serious damage to your reputation. Your hazy orbs peaked behind the curtain, watching Raven perform put you in a daze. Just like the men when they watched Emerald before Raven came onto the stage, they were awestruck at both of their beauty. You couldn’t really see him, but you saw his table. The lights surrounding it outlined some of his figure, helping you see him much more clearly. He didn’t look all too intimidating from what little you saw, but you’re almost positive that like always your words will come back to bite you in the ass. You knew you’d have to snap out of this insecure and nervous act because when you’re out there, said act wouldn’t make your prey cower in fear. They’d be doing that to you. Submission is what every man wants, and in some cases you deliver well with that, but this is THE Supreme Leader in front of you now. The man radiates dominance, power, and there’s a darkness lurking behind that dominance. It doesn’t scare you but it sure as hell doesn’t leave you emotionless. 

 

Getting too lost in your thoughts you were too blind to realize that her act had been done a while ago — ten minutes to be exact. Von came charging out towards you, a mixture of bitterness and a smile etched her features. Folding your arms across your chest with a raised eyebrow you tilted your head to the side in curiosity, like a lost kitten. 

“What’s going on now?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’d just like to inform you that Supreme Leader has been looking forward to this number specifically. 

“Wonder how he knew I’d be here . . .”

You feigned sarcasm, waving your hands to exaggerate your excitement even more. Why was it any of his business anyways. The man must seriously be attached to the Velvet Velour. 

“I always warn him when new show-girls come in to perform. It’s a force of habit, really.”

Suddenly the waves of nervousness hit you even harder than before. Knowing that he knew you were here but didn’t exactly know just exactly who you were left you both shaken and thrilled. A million scenarios playing throughout your head, each one didn’t end in a good way. Taking a deep gulp of nothing but your saliva and dignity, you nodded your head and quickly walked away from Miss ‘I tell this man every time a new girl comes in because that’s normal.’ 

“And now introducing our newcomer, Miss Valentine!” 

An overly happy voice shouted into the microphone, letting everyone know that you were in fact a newbie at this. Your heels tapped on the charcoal-coloured glass floor beneath you, greedy eyes were wandering all over your body as if they’d be the one to fuck it later that night. You smirked to yourself at how pathetic they were for a quick fuck. Anyone really is eager for some attention or affection. Shaking your head at the very thought of some doofus of a man fucking you left your shivering slightly. Your head was held up high, not daring to make eye contact with any of these poor souls tonight as your fingers untied the straps to your robe. A perfect figure but a nasty bitter attitude blessed with a foul mouth. The robe fell and surrounded your feet like a puddle of rain. Wolf whistles and hollers could be heard in the back and others cursed under their alcohol-stenched breath. Your ass was facing the crowd, but someone shouted out at you to ‘hurry the fuck up already’ and your head whipped towards the voice. Though to some you looked like a seductive dominatrix that meant no real harm, your eyes were fueled with hatred as you walked to him. The heels stopped at the edge of the stage which happened to be in front of him, using your heel to help guide his head to meet your eyes, you snarled at him. 

“I will not tolerate immature behavior. Especially while I’m on stage. Do you understand me? You will respect me.” 

His face went pale and it looked like he was about to apologize but it was as clear as day that the beer was doing the talking here. 

“You want some respect you’ll earn it by putting on some decent looking clothes.” 

Something in you snapped. Roughly grabbing his chin, and setting your foot between his legs while your nails dug into his skin you whispered calmly to the man. 

“Of course. I’ll put on decent clothes when you stop ditching your wife to come here. Isn’t that what all of you men do these days? Come here to get drunk and see a decent show now and then?” 

You practically spit out the word decent like poison milk on the tongue. You remember briefly checking the ‘rule book’ and dealing with immature bastards wasn’t a rule at all. Your ‘claws’ dug into his chin one more time before letting go and giving it a hard smack. After all of that oh so delightfulness went down you didn’t care much for performance or even trying to make yourself seem alluring to them. You just shook your hips and teased everyone, taking off bra but not your panties, and throwing them to some random table. Hips swaying from side to side, your hands covered up your breasts from the crowd and winked. You heard Emerald mumbling about charm and being a sweet innocent girl for the men but it was obvious from the start that you were everything but that. The crowd was silent at most but from time to time there’d be some silent whispers.  
And just like that your turn was over in a blink of an eye. You sighed and happily walked off the stage, immediately ridding yourself of the horrid garments you wore for the show. The night has just begun has it not? Combing thorough your white locks there was a hard knock at your door. 

“Who and what is it?” 

Your monotone voiced asked out in wonder.

“Supreme Leader Ren would like to speak with you privately in a secluded area, preferably here.” 

Were you surprised? Somewhat. Scared? Not at all. This was a real treat to you because you weren’t really guessing that out of all people, Von would come to inform you that Ren wanted to see you. 

“When exactly? I’m exhausted.” 

“He said now, and if he’s disappointed by a no from you there’ll be hell to pay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait. School is starting soon for me, on Monday actually. I’ll try my very best to update this, I don’t want it to go dead like almost *every* Kylo fic out there. Not really meeting Kylo in here either, I wanted to study his body movements and dialogue a little more before I started writing for him.


	4. A taste of Iron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ky and reader meet. It ain’t the best, but I wrote this in maybe thirty minutes lol.

Now? As in this very moment? You were almost one hundred percent sure that if there were a mirror laid out in front of you, that you’d see just how pale and petrified you looked. You hadn’t even met the man in person and you could already tell he was a persistent one. Nonetheless, you were still very intimidated by how he sought out to you, but at the same time he didn’t. You weren’t even fully clothed and he wanted to meet with you. The dressing room wasn’t all too big, nor was it all too glamorous either. It was made for you, black, red, and little snippets of white decorated the room. Personalized to your desire, and you weren’t a picky one either. Quickly, you shut the door and with a whisper to yourself, an attempt to calm yourself down from the news that was delivered to you, you looked for something that didn’t make you look less than what you had felt already. Your skin was damp, as were your forehead and hair. It’s not like you could object to his orders, in a way you could see how he was a spoiled man-child. Assuming he was a man at least. It’s hard to tell, with his powerful energy yet his weak ways when faced with a troubled conflict that would impact the lives on many. Your eyes landed on a almost see-through black gown, how fitting. Not wanting to talk to an intimidating man with clothing that wreaked of sweat and hard work, you ditched said fabric and slipped into the piece with ease. It’s not like you were trying to impress this fool, . . . Right? A sort of true but forced laughter escaped your lips, oh boy. Were you in for a long ride. Your eyes bore into the mirror, eyeing the picture that was being presented for you. It was a teasing choice, but it’ll have to do. You just prayed he wasn’t the type to take what he wanted without consent. Those types of men were cocky bastards that had small cocks. Insecure fuckers.

 

“Give me one more second, I can’t find anything presentable. I’ll be out soon.”

 

That’d stall Von for a while, hopefully. Then again, if someone higher up was on her back, she wouldn’t be taking no for an answer.

 

“One minute. If you’re not out by then, I’m coming to drag you out.”

 

Typical behavior from her, though she wouldn’t stand a chance. Von was a weak little . . . Woman. Honestly, it still amazes you how she, of all people, could run a business like this. God, was she all over the place, sorta like those hm, what were they called again? Circus freaks. Yeah, she was one of those things.

 

“Yeah yeah, I’m sure you will.”

 

You snickered quietly, fluffed out your hair and shook your head. What a terrible way to meet The Supreme Leader. You could just imagine what he had thought about you just by seeing your performance and banter on stage with some sleezeball. But, that didn’t matter right? Because you didn’t care what he thought. An impatient knock startled you from your thoughts, obviously someone was eager for something.

 

“Miss Valentine, I hate to be a burden, but the Supreme Leader has been waiting for your presence. So wrap it up and cut the shit. No need to get dolled up either.”

 

That little bitch. You huffed out a sour response, showing her who was the boss around here. She may be YOUR boss, but while she’s in your . . . Quarters, she was living in your world. She would play by your rules.

 

“Oh but Miss Von, I really don’t care for either of your needs at the moment. So, perhaps you should cut the shit and stop kissing ass.”

 

Your pale hands whipped open the door, practically ripping it clean from its hinges. This . . . Aura of his smacked you clean in the face. He radiated this strange energy, it made you uneasy. Of course his eyes were raking your face and body. No doubt he was judging you in his head, making a list of imperfections in his head to poke at for future discussions and disagreements. Finally, after what felt like centuries, you had the balls to stare straight up at his chocolate eyes and pouty set of lips. Not to mention the moles that decorated his pale face and the ravenous locks that cupped his perfectly weird but handsome face.

 

‘With that smug look on his face he’s more than likely aware of his looks and the effect he has on men and women. Cocky bastard.’

 

It was like he had read your mind, because just as you were saying that his face contorted into one of anger. You could see it, the way his eyebrows sunk down into his eyes, his lips sucked into mouth. A sour expression saved for an enemy. Strange. You were educated on the force, but you didn’t know what it well, what it really was and just how powerful a user was.

 

“Your thoughts are painfully annoying, vermin.”

 

Ah, so he could read minds. Nice. A bit of an invasion of privacy, though. Such a deep voice for a man that had the looks of a teenage male. Surely this man wasn’t the Supreme Leader of the First Order. It’s almost too good to be true.

 

‘Wonder if he’s a little bitch in bed.’

 

You snickered to yourself, a hand playing the the straps to your attire. What did he want with you anyways? You were just a . . . Well, you’re a showgirl now, but usually you’re occupied with more gritty matters. You weren’t just some eye candy for people to stare at and get off to. Foolish people that loved to think so little of you and what you were capable of.

 

‘Baby face and he doesn’t know how to control his anger. Yeah, he’s definit—‘

 

A sudden force had wrapped itself around your throat mid-thought, almost crushing your windpipe. Attempting to gasp for air and clawing at the ‘hand’ was a struggle, not only did it make you look so submissive, but you could see he was getting some pleasure out of it. The corner of his mouth was peeled upwards, he was smirking at your position. He’d pay for this later.

 

“I warned you once, and yet you couldn’t take the hint, you stupid girl.”

 

The invisible grip on your neck tightened as your cheeks became a mixture of red and purple. Small gasps and moans for help were pouring out of your mouth like vomit. God, this was so fucking embarrassing. Small droplets of tears threatened to fall from your eyes.

 

And just like that, the presence of his hand was gone. The pressure was all gone. Your knees gave out just as your hands massaged your throat. You were nothing but a coughing fit of a woman kneeling for your Supreme Leader.

 

‘Checkmate, Miss Widow.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I?? Posted?? Wow. Dunno if I hate this work or not, but I’m gonna write for Patrick Hockstetter too. I apologize if there are any grammatical mistakes. Mwah.


End file.
